Death and all his Friends
by Sarcasministic
Summary: "Destiny is absolutely stupid. It's the truth with lies written in between, false corners placed where you least expect them, misplaced fiction amidst an ocean of reality. There are places where destiny should not exist, Arthur, but it still does." Second episode coming up: "Banisher"! I know there are some Merlin fans here somewhere...
1. Chapter 1: Prologue

**I do not own Merlin, Coldplay, or Emachinescat - (a fellow fanfictioner; I do not know whether or not she is still active, but respect is due-she is an inspiration for a large (not really large) portion of this story. Thankee!  
**

* * *

His footsteps echoed. They resounded throughout the courtyard, reminding him of what had happened a mere three days ago.

The stone was riddled with cracks, making it nearly impossible to get by without so much of a twisted ankle. But he held through. Of course he did—he's The Once and Future King, after all. But the pain that he'd buried deep within the folds of his mind for the last few days? That was unavoidable.

Gwen and himself had cleaned up most of them—the bodies. The knights had been the easiest to find and bury, seeing as they'd swore to protect the kingdom. Seeing the deathly white faces had been unnerving, but Gwen told him to focus on the job. And so he did. The problem were the _people_.

They were so innocent, so carefree that day. The Hidden Children were freely practicing their magic, creating horses from forge fire and cleaning dishes from their mothers' windows. Uther would never had tolerated, but that had escaped Arthur's mind. It'd been this way for nearly ten years.

 _"Arthur… how do you feel about magic?"_

 _The man nearly ran into a wall. Merlin had popped the question so innocently, so curiously, it was incredulous. He turned to stare at the questioner._

 _"Magic?" his tongue twisted. "I don't know exactly how I feel about magic, really. There has been no real harm lately. So I guess, at the moment, I'm… fine with it?"_

 _Merlin bit his lip, stopping himself from blurting out something stupid. "So, say, if it stays like this, would you… allow magic in Camelot?"_

 _The King rose a brow. "Why're you asking this, Merlin?"_

 _"What?" he laughed nervously. "Oh, no reason. Really, I was just wondering. Simple question."_

 _"Uh huh, okay, Merlin." he rubbed his head. "Go home. It's getting late."_

 _"What? But, I need to—"_

 _"Merlin. I order you to go home." Arthur began punching him playfully._

 _"Yes, yes, okay, I get it, going." He dodged another smack. "See you tomorrow, Sire."_

The Hidden Children had fought well, fought bravely. If they'd been older, they would have joined Merlin's militia. A private army that no one had known about, except for the knights. That army was made up of one-hundred hidden sorcerers throughout Camelot.

They had volunteered—Beatrice being the first. A fierce, beautiful red-headed girl with a passion like wild fire. She'd loved Camelot and had protected it with all her heart. She'd been the first to accept Merlin's offer. She'd been the first of the Night Watchers.

They were insane people, just like Merlin. They went stood guard throughout the night, dressed in nothing but black. Those who could would transform into birds or insects that glowed an unearthly gold, just like their eyes. Arthur had been amazed when Merlin, his idiotic manservant, came up with the idea. But by then, he knew better than to doubt the mop of black hair.

And so the Nightlings had been born.

Everyone had whispered in excitement whenever they saw a woman turn become a bird, or a man shrink into an insect, but there was an understanding among the people of Camelot that this was to remain a secret—something not to be muttered or uttered, not to be mentioned for fear of certain enemies discovering the Nights (haha, get it? "Nights" instead of "Knights", because they hid in the night… ah, never mind).

But they'd been killed first. Merlin had woken up to the mental screams of their friends as they died out. Merlin had rushed to his King, clutching his ears and collapsed to the floor, struggling to breathe.

 _Arthur was shaken awake by the banging of his door. He unsheathed his sword halfheartedly—it sounded desperate, and there were muffled cries coming from the other side._

 _"Arthur, Arthur!" sobbing, whimpering. "Let me in, please, something's happened to the Watchers…."_

 _The door was flung open the moment he determined it was indeed Merlin's voice. He picked the man up (Jesus, he just doesn't gain weight), laying him gently on the bed and hugging him and stroking his head._

 _"Merlin? Merlin, shh, we'll sort this out, shh…." The warlock gave out another cry, perfectly in sync with the one in his head._

 _"Arthur… Arthur, we're under attack. The Watchers are dead. They… they're all gone. Beatrice… they killed her. They killed them all. I'm alone I'm alone I'm alone I'm alone I'm…."_

 _"Merlin!" Arthur shook him gently, heart breaking at the tears running down his pale cheeks. "Merlin, who are they?"_

 _The man looked out the King's window then. By then Guinevere had made her way back and was standing in the doorway, shocked. Merlin looked out the window at the people running amok and the men running after them._

 _"I don't know."_

 _Those three words had determined the fight. They'd told Arthur one thing._

 _They weren't going to make it through this one._

Guinevere thought back to how Merlin had looked, how shattered he'd felt, and how he did, indeed, have a fear. The fear of the unknown. Common among men, yet never alone. But Merlin's list was short.

He hadn't feared for Arthur. He hadn't feared that the King would die one day; that his mighty quest of destiny and fate would soon come to a close. He feared for whatever comes after.

He feared a lonely world, one in which a friendship that has lasted so long would fade from existence. He feared of having no purpose, having no one to live for—to die for. He feared for the aftermath of it all.

Gwen dropped a small, clay cup. Her knees cracked as she bent down, her hands shook as she picked it up. Her eyes watered as she looked at the cup, the large crack streaming down the middle. She stared at the many duplicates on the shelves above her, the cracks and chips that littered them all.

When she poured water in it, droplets stained the outside of the brown clay.

And now her hands shook even more, her knees barely held themselves together, and her eyes bled. She'd rid herself of the ghostly dried blood in between her fingernails. She'd rubbed her fingers raw.

It was still there.

She couldn't think of another time she'd seen Arthur so caring to anyone. When she'd seen Arthur whispering to Merlin, stroking his head, she knew he was first and foremost. Sure, there was the kingdom, the people, but in Arthur's mind, Merlin was above them all. The two of them just… _clicked_.

She'd realized it first the night of their wedding. The Knights of the Round Table had been laughing. They made horrible, drunken jokes and annoyed everyone to no end. Arthur had refused to drink, saying he didn't see the point to it. And Merlin never _drinks_. No one could ever convince him to sip some wine.

 _"And then he died!" Gwaine ended, laughing along with the rest of the men. Arthur looked over at his newly-wed wife incredulously._

 _"You think this is funny?"_

 _Her brow rose. "No. Of course not. I just think Gwaine snorting is funny."_

 _The King let out a chuckle. He turned to his right. "Merlin, I don't see why you're friends with the man. He's such high maintenance, and his jokes are absolute… Merlin?"_

 _The familiar mop of hair was not next to him._

 _Gwen had forced Arthur to let Merlin out for the night, saying that a friend shouldn't be serving a friend on such a special night. Arthur had protested half-heartedly, but he was the one that made the suggestion of where the idiot would sit. Gwen had promised him he'd never hear the end of it._

 _"Merlin?" He stood slowly as to not alert the Knights. He looked back at Gwen. "Did you see him leave?"_

 _"No… no, I didn't." she furrowed her brows, clearly worried. "Where is he?"_

 _Arthur bit his lip. "You stay here. Keep the Knights busy."_

 _"Why? Shouldn't they help us look for him?"_

 _"I don't think he wants to be found." And with that, the King left, leaving his Guinevere gaping. But she did as she was told._

* * *

 _"Merlin?" his voice echoed through the corridor. He could see the storm outside. The thunder seemed to fluctuate when his manservant's name was spoken. "Merlin?"_

 _He rounded a corner, arriving in an empty room. There were many throughout the castle—they just didn't have a purpose. His voiced echoed in this one, too._

 _And heavy breathing._

 _It was both quiet and loud, heavy and light, controlled and wild. Arthur could hear the cursing that went hand-in-hand with it, which was strange, because Merlin doesn't curse—wait, Merlin!_

 _"Merlin!" Arthur whispered harshly, rushing over to him. He was leaning against a pillar, palms smashed into his closed eyes, rocking slightly. He was pale, and he was cursing, and—_

 _He was crying._

 _Or, well, he had been. He seemed to be quite angry now. And Arthur didn't know what to do with an angry Merlin, because it never really happens._

 _He laid a hand on his shoulder. "Merlin, what's… wrong?" Arthur hesitated, feeling him tense. Merlin simply shook his head… frantically. Biting his lip. Digging his fingernails into his palms. "Merlin, you can tell me. Is it Gwaine? Or… did something happen to Gaius?"_

 _Merlin bolted up, furious. Arthur fell back, astonished at the man's speed. The tear tracks were very visible now, lining his cheeks and glistening. His eyebrows were making him feel stupid._

 _"That's the best you can come up with?" He's nearly yelling. "Gwaine? Gaius? No, Arthur, maybe it's me! Maybe, just maybe, your stupid wedding and stupid festival and your absolutely idiotic happiness is getting to me! Maybe, it's reminding me of something that I can't ever have back!"_

 _Arthur slowly rose, worried. "Merlin, just calm down, slow down—"_

 _"No." although he did quiet down a bit. "You don't get a say, you hear? You have everything you could ever want. Your Knights, Guinevere, the goddamn kingdom! You have a servant to polish your shoes, polish your armor—prepare your goddamn baths. You don't have to keep secrets, Arthur, for the main reason that you_ can't _. You can love the one girl you've been wanting to love, without keeping it hidden away."_

 _He paused, breathing in. Breathing out. Breathing in—_

 _"You can love carelessly, Arthur." There were tears now. They glistened in his eyes, moistened his cheeks. "Because I keep secrets."_

The Queen and King had later learned that her name was Freya, that she'd been killed, that she was never truly free, that she had loved Merlin and he had loved her—but they never learned their secrets. Both Merlin's and Freya's, because some had died with her, and others lived on in Merlin.

Neither would be sought out for a long, long time.

* * *

Arthur screamed.

He screamed and screamed and _screeched_ , because fuck it all. He was tired—so, _so_ , tired—and everything and nothing was working. His hand slammed into a wooden post, shattering it. Oh, adrenaline.

The bang and piercing yell echoed the… yard? He couldn't tell where he was anymore. There were tomatoes and cabbages and carrots littering the ground. A food market. Or, what's left of it.

He kicked these vegetables around. He smashed the tomatoes, threw the cabbages, broke the carrots. Hay flew in the air when threw that around, too, and logs broke from his tightly compressed muscles. From his mouth was such an anguished cry that it tore through the sky with the precision and lethality that could rival Excalibur any day. Then, he tripped. His feet tripped out from underneath him, sending him toppling to the ground.

Onto the remains of a knight.

He remembered this one—Sir Gerald. A magnificent fighter, a kind heart, a soft soul. But it was not Gerald that came to mind when Arthur laid his eyes upon the man. It was Percival.

 _"Where the hell did they come from?" Gwaine slayed another—it did not boost their morale. "I mean, seriously, no one can just_ kill _the Watchers. Merlin trained them!"_

 _"You know," Elyan grumbled, ducking, "I've never heard someone complain so much. Especially to a group that is just as clueless as he!"_

 _"Would you both just_ shut up _?" Merlin yelled, blasting another. Percival laughed, not saying a word. Both a silent killer and a silent judger that man was._

 _But the series of events that happened next were inevitable._

 _Merlin grunted, wincing. Got him from behind. His arm was killing him. Percival looked back, worriedly (silent worrier, too, I guess). His sword moved a quarter of an inch to the side, his arm resting. Merlin looked back, eyes going wide. "_ Percival _!"_

 _The strong man looked back. The silver of the sword gleamed in an odd way, a way that was in no way natural. Merlin saw this. Merlin also saw the metal go through his friend's gut._

 _The air pulsed around him. It sent any enemy within a two-mile radius flying backwards. Merlin ran so fast he was able to catch his friend, safely lowering him to the ground. His hands wavered around the wound, hoping he was wrong. Praying he was wrong._

 _Nothing happened. Silence reigned._

 _Percival was dead. Sir Percival was gone._

 _Merlin's next cry made even the Knights stumble slightly. The ground rumbled throughout the whole kingdom, pausing the battle momentarily._

 _Arthur lowered his sword. He looked back at Merlin's slumped form, at Percival's still body, and felt sadness. He'd never seen his friend so…_ broken _._

 _Elyan bit his lip. Leon looked away. Gwaine teared up. Merlin stood, eyes cold and relentless._

 _Arthur held his hand out. "Merlin—"_

 _"Shut up. Just… shut up. Not right now. Later." He said it like there was going to be a later. "You all… I can't heal your wounds. Their blades were forged in a dragon's breath. So please… be careful."_

 _Gwaine narrowed his eyes. "But you're in the same predicament as us, right?"_

 _"Yes."_

 _"But, Merlin," Arthur stepped forward. His hands were trembling. "You… we…."_

 _The mop of black hair looked up. "I said I'd be your servant till the day I die. Don't you dare think I'll ever take that back."_

 _"But you could die."_

 _"We all could, Arthur. We all might."_

Arthur racked his brain now, taking in the silence of the air and the dust from the rubble and the smell of the bodies. He questioned everything he'd ever known, every enemy he'd come in contact with, ever friend and foe. Who were they? They wore white. White, white, white, white, white. It still haunted him, blinded him, reminded him of how absolutely _clueless_ he'd felt.

Why?

Why did they come?

What had they done? Camelot had entered its Golden Age. No one fought, there were no rivalries, no wars, no battles! Magic had been accepted. The civilians thrived, and their working conditions became tolerable, even joyful. Everyone was happy.

When he thought back to it, Merlin and he had always been… _tense_. Ever since the fall of Morgana, and when Merlin got him to Avalon, there was a heavy weight in the air. Their friendship had mended, but with Merlin's knowledge of magic—heck, him _being_ magic—they were always waiting for something to happen.

 _"I hope you know you attract trouble," Arthur grumbled, glaring at his manservant._

 _Merlin was incredulous. "_ I _attract trouble? Do you know how many times I've—"_

 _"Don't play that card, Merlin."_

 _"It's true!" he exclaimed, picking up Arthur's leftovers. Said man rose a brow._

 _"You're the one with the magic."_

 _"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"_

A few years after that—year four of the Golden Age—Arthur had a horrible realization. One that chilled him to the bone. One that, in his mind, would need to be tended to immediately. One that had killed Merlin three days ago.

 _Arthur dropped his cup._

 _Merlin looked up, slightly annoyed. The wine had soaked his report—and his shirt! He groaned, picking himself up from the floor and grabbing for the fallen cup._

 _Arthur grasped his hand._

 _Merlin immediately tried to jerk away, but this is Arthur we're talking about. His face was deathly pale and his eyes were wide, blue irises shining in the sunlight streaming through the window. Merlin frowned._

 _"Arthur? Is everything alright?"_

 _His response was delayed. Arthur's grip got tighter. "I… Merlin…."_

 _"What?"_

 _Silence. "The Great Dragon… when we went to talk to him… I didn't understand it then…."_

 _"What is it?"_

 _"Your magic… it's elemental."_

 _Merlin looked at him. "Yes… yes, it is."_

 _"You're… 'one with the earth', he said."_

 _"Yes, Arthur. That's the premise of elemental magic."_

 _"Does that mean… that, say, when we cut down trees and kill the animals and ruin the land… does that mean we're…_ killing _you?"_

 _Merlin stilled. He hadn't thought of it that way. The room suddenly seemed bigger. He seemed… smaller. Vulnerable. Weak. And… too powerful._

 _"Yes… yes, I guess it is."_

 _Arthur bolted up. "We… I have to do something about this. We need to take better care of the land, plow more efficiently, use firewood more sparingly—"_

 _"Arthur, Arthur!" Merlin said frantically, grasping the man's arms. "It doesn't affect me_ that _much! Dear God, Arthur, calm down. Those are small things. It… I think it only affects me in big numbers."_

 _"You_ think _?"_

 _"Well, I haven't actually… paid attention to it."_

 _Arthur gave him cold eyes. Merlin smiled._

 _"Heh…."_

If they'd figured out anything, it was that Merlin was wrong. Sure, dead deer didn't _really_ affect him fatally, but it was definitely noticeable. Especially on patrols. And hunts.

Hunts. The _hunts_.

It was quite a horrifying incident when it happened. Initially, it was a patrol, but Arthur and the Knights had decided:

 _"Hey, Arthur, we should hunt instead. Or both."_

Arthur had nodded thoughtfully. He'd missed Merlin's gaze. It had panic and dread written across it.

 _"Yes, yes, Leon. A two-in-one. What a splendid idea."_

Merlin had told him once that whenever he did a "two-in-one", it never ended well. Arthur had, in his arrogance, waved it off as senseless worry. Of course, there was that extremely annoying and strangely wise voice in the back of his head that told him something absolutely horrifying happen. But Arthur never listens to that voice.

It sounded like Merlin, if he really thought about it. His accent. His sarcastic tone. His daily scolding rolled into good choices—a force to be reckoned with. The harsh reality. The telling of a real situation.

… Merlin?

 _"I can't believe we're doing a two-in-one." Merlin grumbled. His horse was braying wildly. Even his_ horse _agreed with him. "This is absolutely ridiculous."_

 _"Oh, lighten up, Merlin!" Arthur said cheerfully. Six dead rabbits were strapped to his own stead, swaying nauseously to the pace at which they were riding._

 _Merlin bit his lip. The Knights had gotten really good at hunting. It was almost unhealthy, the amount they brought in to Camelot. "Arthur… I'm not feeling great…."_

 _And it was the truth._

 _Arthur stiffened immediately, remembering a year ago that conversation they had. He immediately grew disgusted with himself. "How bad?"_

 _"Not good. Maybe a few more rabbits. Another deer."_

 _Arthur nodded. But… they were skilled hunters. Silent, despite their chainmail. Fast, despite their swords. And what if you, say…._

 _Walked into a clearing of deer?_

 _Merlin paled at the sight. It, for whatever reason, reminded him of the unicorn and what a pain that whole situation had been. He saw the look on the Knight's faces. Arthur's, too._

 _"Arthur, no. Let… them go." Merlin could hardly see him through the curtain of lust covering his face. "Don't do it, Arthur."_

 _"Never gonna get a chance like this one, mate." Gwaine smiled wickedly. They all had their bows out. There was no determination on their faces. They were predators that knew their prey couldn't run._

 _"Please, no."_

 _Percival was backing away, moving next to Merlin. "Guys," his voice was soft, but it carried. "Don't—"_

 _Five deer. Four men. Four shots._

 _Four dead deer._

 _The yard was quiet for a moment. Arthur's horse stepped backwards, as if realizing what her master had done. He took in the smell of blood. It coated the floor. He looked at the one that still lived. It wasn't looking at him. It was looking behind him._

 _And slightly to his left._

 _It stepped forward fearlessly, eyes black. There was no soul in those eyes. They were judging and hurtful. They told him the truth. And reminding him of how completely and utterly stupid he was._

 _It brayed a sorrowful moan._

 _Arthur looked behind him. He jumped off his horse and slid to the ground. He realized, in the back of his head, how dramatic this all is, but he could care less. And besides, of_ course _it's dramatic. This is Merlin—oh, Merlin!_

 _"Merlin, Merlin, Merlin," he mumbled. Percival was glaring at him. There was murder in his eyes. "Hey, hey, stay awake. We always have a b-bucket ready, Merlin." His voice trembled._

 _"I-I told you not t-to do it," Merlin coughed. "What t-the hell, Arthur."_

 _"I know, I know, I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry—"_

 _"Arthur, we really aren't t-that far from C-Camelot. Just g-get moving."_

 _Percival giggled. He_ giggled _. They all stared at him._

 _"You're underestimating Merlin, Arthur." He rose a brow, nodding his head toward Merlin's now unconscious form. "He's Emrys. He'll pull through this. It just hurts… quite a bit."_

 _Gwaine's expression hardened. "That doesn't change the fact that we were the ones that hurt him in the first place."_

 _Percival looked up, an emotionless expression on his face._

 _"Then be more careful next time."_

* * *

Gwen remembered the two of them when they returned. Arthur had been quite wobbly, and Merlin had held him up, but there were no insults or jokes being thrown between them.

This was the first occurrence that alarmed the Queen.

Guinevere knew about Merlin, who he really was, but that didn't change her opinion of him. But ever since that day, she stayed by Arthur's side, watched him from windows. The people and the chefs and the advisors and _everyone_ thought she was simply paranoid. They'd thought she was overprotective. She was fine with them thinking that.

But that was not her reasoning.

Both she and Arthur knew who Merlin really was. Gwen knew he knew.

She was making sure Arthur didn't kill Merlin.

The poor boy couldn't avoid it. He couldn't not serve Arthur his breakfast, he couldn't not shine his armor, and he certainly couldn't not go on patrols with him, but that didn't change how he felt about it. Gwen could feel the air still whenever they were in a room together, alone or not, but Arthur didn't react anymore. He didn't joke around, he didn't yell at Merlin, he didn't care anymore.

Merlin didn't call him a prat, a dollop head, overbearing. He didn't address Arthur as Arthur— _"Yes, Sire. I'll go clean your armor, Sire. Yes, I'll be back bright and early, Sire."_ —but the big difference between the two of them was that Merlin was still _Merlin_ on the inside, somewhere behind the folds of their broken friendship.

Guinevere knew one of them would snap. She knew it would take a while, for they're both quite patient, she knew it would take everyone off-guard and that no one knew when it would happen.

But she didn't expect it from Merlin.

 _She was helping Arthur with reports. They could hear Merlin in the background, sharpening a sword. The wind from his window flitted in the air, nearly taking the papers with it._

 _For a millisecond, Gwen could hear everything. She could hear Arthur's breathing, Merlin's huffs, Arthur's tremble, Merlin's hardiness. She could feel Merlin roll his shoulders back. She could feel the breath he let out from across the room._

 _"Do you think I'm a monster, Arthur?"_

 _He was startled. "Not… necessarily, Merlin."_

 _"If I'm not_ necessarily _a monster, Arthur, what am I?"_

 _Gwen's eyes were wide. Her mouth was shut._

 _Arthur bit his lip. "You're… you're…."_

 _"You see?" Merlin sighed, placing the sword down. He turned to look at Arthur. "You don't know what I am. You sometimes feel I am a friend, a foe, an ally, an enemy, a monster. I asked Gaius that same thing, Arthur. I asked him if I was a monster. He said I wasn't. And I believed him. I wanted to die, Arthur, because I am magic and I am nearly nothing without it._

 _"I once lost it. The day before the battle. When I told you I wouldn't be coming. Your face killed me, Arthur, but without my magic, I am no one. I would have been a nuisance on the field. I went to get it back, Arthur, and Morgana beat me there. She trapped me in the Crystal Cave, and for the first time, I felt hopeless. I screamed out and cried. Balinor showed me the way, he brought my magic back, but I still couldn't get to you in time._

 _"I knew that Mordred would be the one to kill you—to nearly kill you." He shook his head as if something painful had invaded his mind. "But would you have believed me? No. Even if you knew he was fighting against you, even if you knew that he fought for Morgana, you wouldn't have listened. You still cared for him, still thought he could change. Isn't that why he stabbed you in the first place?"_

 _The King was speechless. "I…."_

 _But Merlin wasn't finished._

 _"I showed you my magic because I've always wanted to tell you. I trusted you with my deepest secret because for a fleeting moment, I thought you would die and that this would all be over. My stupid destiny, your stupid destiny, our fates, all pointed toward you living and becoming the greatest king anyone would ever know. It never told me that I might die, or that you might die, or that anyone dear to us would die, but that all happened._

 _"You don't understand how close you came, Arthur. You weren't breathing. Your heart had stopped. Your pulse was gone. I cried and cried, I screamed, because I was your friend and I had nowhere to go. I had failed, ultimately. The future looked horrible. But then you came back."_

 _Arthur stood up, slowly. "Merlin…."_

 _"Destiny is absolutely stupid. It's the truth with lies written in between, false corners placed where you least expect them, misplaced fiction amidst an ocean of reality. There are places where destiny should not exist, Arthur, but it still does."_

 _Arthur took a step forward. Another._

 _Another._

 _His footsteps echoed throughout the room._

 _His breaths hung heavily in the air._

 _He opened his arms. Merlin collapsed into them._

 _They both cried the tears that'd been balled up on the inside._

* * *

Gwen didn't look up when Arthur walked in. She cooked their dinner, washed their dishes, played along with his game of silence. She knew that he was upset, troubled—his cry had not gone unheard. She teared up at it, but nothing could make her sadder than the Battle of the Fallen.

There really hadn't been a better name for it. The battle was lost the moment the Watchers were found—heard—dead, but no one would express that openly. She remembered going to bed the night before, loving the world she was born into. Loving the friends she had. And now, as she watched Arthur stare into the fireplace, she felt sadness.

Of all those friends, only one remained, and he was but a shell of what he used to be.

"Arthur," her voice was soft but unyielding. "Will we continue with the bodies tomorrow?"

He nodded. "Preferably." He was hoarse. Even his coldest reactions couldn't change that. "But not all them. I still need to patrol." There was that unspoken message:

 _I'm looking for survivors, because surely, we can't be the only ones, right?_

She chose not to agree with him, with the patrol. Not today. "I've been thinking about how all this feels. The loneliness, the fear, everything." Her next words—she knew they were a subject he'd been trying to avoid. "I think this is how Merlin feels—felt." _Past tense, Guinevere. Past tense._

He stiffened. "Yes, I suppose."

"I mean, when you think about it," _which I bet you've been doing_ , "there was no one he could go to. Sure, he had Gaius, but that old man didn't really understand. He couldn't tell you for the longest time, for fear of being put to death, and he didn't come to me because he didn't know how I would react to it. He kept that pain hidden for three years—three years! Even now, we can't even begin to fathom how…."

The door swung on its' hinges. The cold air flew into the small house, chilling her. There was something about the air that didn't feel right. It was all… wrong. Oh…

That was it.

Merlin.

 _"Bandages and rue!" Gwen shouted, seeing as she'd run out. The halls and rooms were all being used for the injured, and they'd done surprisingly well. Her best friend, Vera, swung into the room carrying those exact items._

 _"Here you go, Gwen." She had a fearless smile. She saw Merlin in her brown orbs whenever they locked eyes._

 _"Thank you, thank you—how's everyone in the eastern wing?"_

 _"We've lost twenty men, so far." She shook her head sadly, black hair pulled into a messy bun. "The Hidden Children… they're holding on. Out of them all, we've lost Cameron and Alice."_

 _Gwen had to hold back tears. She could remember the sight of Alice's death on the field after she'd gone out to get water. The child was throwing spells in all directions, effectively defeating every enemy._ Merlin taught her well _, Gwen thought, nearly smiling,_ of course he taught her well _. He's always been fond of the children._

 _Gwen had been slashing a man down when the Light went out of her. Each warlock contained one (Goddamn, the amount of warlock children hidden in Camelot had been absolutely insane), their soul in the form of an orb that lit the heavens when it was released. The Watchers' Lights still lit the sky, and would so as long as time existed._

 _Alice's had been orange—the orange you see in a sunset, in the reflection of a river. Gwen's face was soaked as she hauled the child's broken body inside, hugging her close._

 _"Is Arthur still out there?" Vera rose a brow at her question, smiling slightly. She replaced a wet rag on a soldier's head._

 _"Yes, from what I've heard. He's the King—he won't die."_

 _"What about Merlin?"_

 _She chuckled. "Emrys? Gwen, you've gone mad. He is, if anything, stronger than that of the King." He bit her lip. "No offense—Arthur?"_

 _Gwen turned around, horror written in her features._

 _"Gaius!" Arthur's voice seemed to silence the whole tent. It was almost too dark to see, but Gaius could see right through it._

 _And Guinevere could see the way his face paled at the body in their King's arms._

* * *

"Why'd you do it, Merlin?" Arthur kicked up a stone, pacing and glancing at the grave every few seconds. "Why'd you do it?"

 _"Ástríce!" Merlin shouted, flinging his enemy backwards. Simple, but lethal. Right up Merlin's alley. "Ástríce!"_

 _Arthur was tired. His arm ached from the hours of fighting, and his armor was doing nothing but weighing him down. His aim and efficiency worsened by the second._

 _Kilgharrah flew overhead, annihilating a field of the enemy. Camelot's warriors had enough sense to duck. The others… well, they weren't as lucky._

 _"Arthur!" Gwaine gasped. "We can't keep this up for much longer. We're growing too tired. They enemy… they're endless."_

 _Merlin huffed. "That's one way to put it." He glanced at Arthur. "Without sounding so dramatic, he's saying that we aren't going to survive the night. Whoever, whatever, they are, their numbers are what make them powerful." He slashed down another man. "It's not their skill. They're tiring us down on purpose."_

 _Leon nodded. "There's something bigger coming."_

 _"Will we be able to fight it?"_

 _"In this condition? No, probably not." Merlin shook his head. "Even if we refueled, the chances are slim. Whatever it is, they're willing to put a lot of men to death to make it worth it."_

 _"I wish we knew what 'it' was." Elyan mumbled._

 _Merlin gritted his teeth as another Light went off. Arthur looked over at him worriedly. "Merlin, you should go rest. Go see—"_

 _"No. That'll make it worse than it already is." Merlin looked at him with wide eyes, seeing something behind him. "Ástríce!"_

 _A man flew from behind Arthur, landing on the earth with a dull thud. Arthur let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. "Thanks Mer—"_

Arthur stared at the mound of dirt. He glared at it. He hated what lay beneath it, what it represented. A lost friendship, a broken kinship, a buried life. He's buried his best friend. His true friend.

 _Merlin looked at him with wide eyes. There, within them, Arthur could see the peace and acceptance. He could see the finality and loneliness. He could see the regret, the gloominess, the shock. But on the outside, Arthur could see the pain._

 _The sword was pulled from his gut. It was slick with the Warlock's blood. His killer backed away, as if just realizing that he'd doomed Camelot. The man watched as the king of his enemy caught the raven, tears spilling carefully, cradling his body. Whispering._

 _Gwaine's resolve, his control, crumbled. Its dust littered the ground as he screamed and pummeled the man. No one stopped him. No one held back. No one winced as Gwaine screamed:_

 _"Merlin!"_

 _"Arthur," Elyan yelled, eyes desperate. "We need to get him to Gaius."_

 _The King stopped rocking, but looked to his knight with red eyes. "B-but… he said…."  
"Well damn that!" Gwaine growled. "We're going to try. So, get your ass up, Princess, and get him to Gaius." There was that unspoken message that the man had been screaming at him, screeching—_

 _'He's not gonna just die. He's gonna die fighting.'_

Arthur collapsed by the mound of dirt, rubbing his eyes. "Because that's who you are, Merlin. You always know what's gonna happen next. You're a riddle made of mysteries and questions. You're unintentionally deceiving. You always know the answer."

 _A falcon screamed overhead._

"You just… leap into everything. You never know when the hell to stop, when to begin, when to ask for help, when to do _anything_ right, because, you idiot, you're Merlin and you just don't—"

Arthur breathed in heavily, tears gathering in his eyes.

"I'm going nowhere with this. You're—you were my friend, Merlin, the best and truest and most trustworthy friend. You were goofy and stupid and extremely amusing. You worked behind the scenes for the longest time and got no credit for it and now… now you're dead, Merlin. You're gone, and I'm so, _so_ lonely—"

He choked on his tears. They filled his eyes and ran laps down his face, their stamina infinite. Arthur shook now, trembled and rocked, because there were sobs now, and they weren't stopping and he couldn't control himself and there was no one to criticize him and—

A soft, brown hand landed on his shoulder.

It, too, trembled.

Gwen knew this would happen eventually.

She didn't tell him, and he probably knew it too, but bottling up his emotions didn't do anything for his stress. It's part of the reason why women are so misunderstood. Men aren't the best at paying attention to those feelings.

 _The door was open._

But as she sat by the fire, she looked through the small window. Merlin's grave was simple, yet held so much to it. Gaius' was next to his, along with the knights.

She saw Arthur's hunched frame. She saw how it shook. She saw how his strong, sturdy hand played in the air, covered his mouth, and rubbed his sleeve consistently as his lips moved. She felt the words long before she heard them.

"You just… leap into everything. You never know when the hell to stop, when to begin, when to ask for help, when to do _anything_ right, because, you idiot, you're Merlin and you just don't…."

She saw those strong, sturdy hands grasp at the ground, knuckles white.

"I'm going nowhere with this. You're—you were my friend, Merlin, the best and truest and most trustworthy friend. You were goofy and stupid and extremely amusing. You worked behind the scenes for the longest time and got no credit for it and now…."

Gwen stood up, walking to the door. She was outside when she heard his next words, and she was shaking, too.

"… now you're dead, Merlin. You're gone, and I'm so, _so_ lonely—"

She placed her delicate, small hand on his shoulder. He looked up, eyes pleading, _pleading_ for this all to be a dream, begging for them all to come back….

She shook her head and knelt next to him, a small, sad smile on her face. Gwen could see the tears that wouldn't stop, that wouldn't let up, and realized that they had friends on her own face, and now her cheeks were wet, too.

They hugged. They hugged for a long, long time and they remembered.

 _Gwen and Vera looked at each other in horror. They rushed over, bandages and potions in hand, ready to tackle almost anything._

 _But they weren't when they saw Merlin on the table._

 _"Gaius," Arthur also had bandaging. "Gaius, you have to help him, there has to be a way—"_

 _The old man shook his head, even though he still attempted to close the wound. He shook his head, then looked to his ward, the boy he'd known for fifteen years, the boy that was his son in everything but blood, the boy who wasn't a boy anymore._

 _The boy who, Gaius knew, didn't want to die. The boy who was a man and a man that wasn't ready to leave everything, wasn't ready to leave Arthur, or Gaius, or Gwen, or Gwaine…._

 _The boy who knew the inevitable was coming._

 _Gwen held her hands at her mouth when she saw the sadness in Merlin's eyes. He was awake now, and he could hardly feel the pain. He didn't look down at his wound. He didn't tell them it would be okay._

 _He did cry, though, because he was scared. His brows scrunched up and he looked to Arthur, because Arthur was crying, too, and he was trying to hide it. His shaking hand clasped around Arthur's and held on as tightly as he could._

 _The King's eyes were desperate. He was rummaging around cabinets and cupboards, cursing himself and trying to stem the flow of tears—_

 _Then there was Merlin's hand. Soft, precise, gentle, glass hand that had hardened over the years of servant work that he'd been subject to. It trembled, as did his lips. And Arthur told him:_

 _"Merlin, you… you're gonna… please, Merlin…."_

 _The boy that was a man took in a stuttering breath, never wincing. "I'm scared, Arthur. I-I don't want to die. Not today… I want us to win, Arthur, but…."_

 _"We will win, Merlin." A shaky smile. "This is your king you're talking to."_

 _Merlin shook his head, frantic. "Arthur, I forgot all about her… I forgot, you have to follow—"_

 _He coughed. He groaned in pain, still panicking. Gaius looked confused. "Merlin, you have to calm down. Who are you—"_

 _"No, no, no, no, no—Arthur, you won't win this battle," blood came from his mouth this time. "You won't. B-but you will surv-vive it. You have to follow… the…."_

 _Arthur looked at him with wild eyes. "F-follow what, Merlin? Merlin!" He looked at Merlin's fading eyes. He saw how vulnerable he was. "Merlin?"_

 _"I'm scared, Arthur." His eyes twinkled then. "Where will I go?"_

 _The tent stilled. Each wounded warrior, each nurse, each dead body watched the blue light that flew into the air. They watched as its wings flapped, as its small, glowing body hovered in the air. They saw as it turned around and looked each one of them in the eye._

 _They watched as the Merlin flew away at breakneck speeds, off to the forest._

Arthur woke up the next day. He dressed himself, made breakfast for Guinevere, ate with her, and told her where he was going and not to worry.

Now, the Once and Future King walked through the forest. Two grey rabbits hung from his belt. Birds chirped and wolves howled, but he could care less about that. It was still dark out. It was cold and snow lay upon the ground in a fine layer. The animals were scarce. And then—

 _A falcon screamed._

There was a glow emitted from a tree. A large, twisted oak that reached far, far into the sky. Grey clouds wisped through that sky, sad and depressed and free.

Arthur looked up and saw that Merlin.

The Merlin that glowed blue. The blue from the cave when he'd gone for the stupid flower. Its wings lay at its side in a delicate manner, and its head swiveled around as if looking for something—

His eyes landed on Arthur's. He screeched in what sounded suspiciously like joy, and he flew down to meet Arthur.

The King looked down at him with wide eyes. He looked down, then looked up, then down again.

He flew up and hovered at the King's face, glowing even brighter. He looked down at the dead animals and cawed in what sounded oddly like disgust. Then…

He bolted.

Arthur stood there for three seconds. Then he sprinted after him, because that was Merlin's _soul_ right there. No, that's not right.

That was Merlin.

When he finally caught up with the bird, he came to a clearing. The trees bent their branches overhead, stopping any snow from making its way to the ground. The leaves ruffled with the wind, dancing through the air with a joy that could only be found in the happiest of times. And there was a girl.

She was no more than six. Her hair was red, but it was a red mixed with black to create a sort of garnet color. Her skin was as white as snow. Her feet were bare, and she wore nothing but a thin, dark green dress, but she didn't seem cold.

Arthur looked around and saw the Merlin hovering frantically in the air. He jerked his head towards the girl, as if to say, _walk up to her, you clot pole!_ and he landed on a branch, head dipped.

The blonde man walked up to where she sat, playing with a brown leaf. He watched as she made it yellow, then into a fox, then into a bear, then a wolf.

She shooed it away, then turned to the blonde man before her.

She gasped, backing away, never making eye contact. Her back hit a tree. She suddenly looked dangerous.

Sharp, lethal tree roots sprouted from the ground, pointing at Arthur. Her voice was small, powerful, vulnerable….

 _"I'm scared, Arthur."_

It was sweet, curious, questioning.

 _"Where will I go?"_

And it was guarded. But he heard his best friend in her voice, and he cried a little inside when she didn't know him. But of course she didn't know him.

"Who… who are you?" the branches moved a bit closer. "And what do you want…?"

He raised his hands. "I'm Arthur, and he guided me—"

The wood had him pinned to his own tree now. "Who guided you? Who are you, where is—"

Merlin landed on the branches, cawing. Scolding, reprimanding. She calmed at the sight of him, but still looked confused. "He guided you?"

"Yes." The branches retracted. "What is your name?"

She rubbed her pale arms. "Aurora." She scrutinized him. "Why did he lead you to me?"

Arthur smiled sadly. "That, I do not know."

"Where are my parents?"

The air stilled. Arthur looked at her then. Took her in. Merlin's arms, his hands, his eyes….

And Beatrice's beauty.

A tear slipped down his face. "There… there was a battle at Camelot…."

Her eyes shut. She breathed out. "They're dead, aren't they?"

He nodded.

"Were… you're the King, aren't you?" she looked up at him.

She didn't bow, and for that he was grateful.

"Yes, Aurora."

"I remember my father," they sat on the oddly warm floor. The Merlin perched on her shoulder. "My mother could never come out, and my father hid me away with the druids. He… he was an odd man, I remember. He was extremely lanky, really tall, and his accent was sort of annoying. His voice was sort of deep, but light and cheery. He had the oddest, darkest sarcasm, and I think I inherit that, but… he made sure I understood it.

"He… he was known among the druids. They always spoke of the almighty Emrys and how he'd helped you unite the lands of Albion, how he became the kindest and most trustworthy person to walk the earth." She paused, frowning and biting her lip.

Arthur tilted his head. "What's wrong?"

"They… the druids never told me his real name. I only knew him for how powerful he was, for what the legends made of him. He couldn't visit me often enough for us to create a special bond. I only knew him for what he was made of." Aurora looked at him, stroking the bird. "Is it true that he was magic?"

Arthur smiled. "Yes."

"He came to me once. Midwinter, I remember, and he was absolutely freezing. My caretakers bowed to him, and he hated it. He told them that, _'I am no more human than you. You need not bow to me'_ and they kind of had this confused and giddy expression on their faces then."

 _Aurora placed the pencil down, rubbing her face. This story was going nowhere, and it was starting to get to her. She needed inspiration from somewhere._

 _"Wow, and to think you're only six."_

 _Her face lit up, glowing. She ran into his outstretched arms, screaming in joy. "Father!"_

 _He laughed, a sweet sound that she could only dream of. His hair itched at her face. "That is who I am. Among other names."_

 _"Will you tell me this time?"_

 _His face fell. "No, Aurora. Not this time."_

 _"But… why not? You let me know mother's name…."_

 _"There are dangerous people out there, Aurora. I don't want them to use me as leverage should you be…." He squeezed his eyes shut. "You know."_

 _She placed a hand on his arm. They were sitting now. "What have you come to tell me this time?"_

 _Emrys rose a brow. "Oh, many things, dear. But first, I want you to know something about yourself."_

 _"Oh?"_

 _"Well, you know how I'm 'Emrys, the all-powerful good-giving man of the land'?"_

 _She giggled. "Yes. Although, that's a bit dramatic, in the sense that you're extremely goofy and clumsy and idiotic at times."_

 _He held a hand to his chest, a mock expression on his face. "Why, I'm hurt! You're sounding just like Arthur—ah, anyway—you know how I'm magic?"_

 _"Yes, father."_

 _"Well, when your mother and I got together, we had no idea that our genetics would combine to create you, Aurora Aquila Ambrosius, that you would be a second, even more powerful me. Even the druids were surprised by your arrival. And… I used to be hunted. I was wanted dead by many throughout Albion, just for my power. And since you've been born…."_

 _Aurora sighed. "I'm even more valuable."_

 _"And dangerous," the raven-head shifted slightly. "Many know me as Emrys, but far more know me as—" he chuckled. "Almost slipped there, didn't I? I'm sorry, Aurora. I truly am."_

Arthur took in a stuttering breath. The memory still lingered in the air, still connected to its caller. The girl shook her head.

"He disguised me. He hated it with every fiber of his being, but he kept me looking this age. He could say that his daughter was seventeen, twelve, three, and all eyes would skip over me. But he hated it."

"Because it put others in danger."

"And it put me in danger," she sighed. "The more he lied, the more his soul shattered. It broke him."

Here, she whispered strange words. Her legs grew longer, her hair more full, her arms more muscled. Her face slightly more angled, her eyes wiser.

"I found out early that I age faster than most people. I'm only ten, but I look and sound and feel twenty. It's odd, and father could never quite explain it, but it worked to my advantage."

Arthur stood with her. The Merlin still perched on her shoulder, glowing slightly more. Arthur smiled. "His name was Merlin, Aurora."

She smiled, glancing at the small bird. "Do you have a name for this creature, Arthur?"

He grinned, taking her small hand in his. They turned, and snow fell upon them. Neither shivered. "Aldwyn." The King laid his eyes upon the bird. It nodded, fluttering to his shoulder.

 _"What would you name your son, Merlin? If you had one?"_

 _"Aldwyn." There was no hesitation, no doubt. He was sure._

Aurora Aquila Ambrosius let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding. "Aldwyn. I like it."

"Oldy for short."

Aldwyn screeched, pecking at Arthur's ear furiously. Aurora laughed, a beautiful sound that could only be dreamed of.

* * *

And so, years later, Camelot was reborn. Hunith had started it, gathering up the wondrous people of her village, sending children out to others, doing whatever she could to help the family of four that remained within the city's broken walls. She arrived and warned them of what was coming. She told them that it wasn't the end, that it was only the beginning. She arrived and hugged her granddaughter, laughing at the irony of it all.

 _"It's like having another Merlin!"_

Gwen had embraced her, shaking with sobs and laughter and screaming on the inside, because she knew this wasn't the end. Gwen had jumped up and down and up again, because she could already hear the army of people that was streaming through the holes in the walls. Guinevere paced around the small house, shaking her head and chuckling like a mad woman.

 _"Arthur, this… this is amazing."_

The King and Aldwyn were looking out the window, one gaping and the other staring, shocked, at the sheer amount of people. They carried food, water, wood, stone, everything and so much more. Hunith laid a hand on his shoulder, smiling, nodding her head.

 _This is real, I swear to you, it is real._

Aldwyn flew up, landing on her outstretched hand. She looked at him, crying now, and he chirped a sad song. She heard something then, something that sounded suspiciously like _sorry_ , and for that she shook her head, cradling him to her chest. "There is nothing to be sorry for, Merlin. You've done great things."

It was then that it happened. After three years, the little Merlin grew, grew into a flaming bird. His body was four feet long, his tail soft and extravagant. His wings became glowing, feathered masterpieces that expanded across the room. His head was aerodynamic, feathers sprouting elegantly. He was cold to the touch, but radiated warmness.

Arthur stared in awe at the beauty of him. Aldwyn craned his long neck twisting this way and that. He let out a huff (Arthur blinked at this) and turned to his King.

 _You know, now that I take up this whole house, I can't exactly stay here. Idiot._

Arthur froze, blue eyes meeting fire. "Merlin?"

 _Nah, nah, Aldwyn. But yes, Merlin._

"What… just happened?"

 _Well,_ Aldwyn seemed just as clueless, _I'm pretty sure I just became a phoenix. But, a, um, blue one. And I'm also quite a bit larger than that of a normal phoenix—ah, who cares, my point is, I'll talk to you outside, because my back's beginning to hurt. Quite cramped in here._

And with that, he stumbled outside.

Aurora looked at him. "Uh, Arthur?"

He blinked. "Yes?"

"My dad just turned into a…."

"Phoenix."

"Well, okay, a blue phoenix… that glows… and communicates telepathically…."

"He wants to talk to me outside." Arthur rubbed his neck.

Gwen chuckled. "Well then, go talk to him. We'll be helping rebuilding."

Arthur stepped outside, where Aldwyn was looking around. He sat next to the bird, squinting. "Hey."

 _Hey._

"So, you wanted to talk to me…?"

 _Yes._

"Well—"

 _I want to thank you, Arthur._

He gulped. "What?"

 _You… I want to thank you. I was terrified, Arthur. I didn't want to die. I didn't want to leave you, I didn't want to leave Aurora. I didn't you to go through loss like this. But… when I left, I was too scared to come back. Aurora was fine, of course, but once word got to the druid camp that Camelot had been attacked—that we were losing—she freaked. She ran. That's why I didn't come back to you sooner._

 _I hate how guilty you feel. I hate that you and Guinevere were so helpless, so lost. I hated that you had to battle this on your own. You were beating yourself up, Arthur. It hurt me._

Arthur looked away. "I… I really missed you, Aldwyn."

 _And I you. And while I wanted to reassure you that my bird-transformation didn't alter any memories, I had to wait for you to come to me. I knew you'd have to hunt at some point, even in this weather. Aurora was actually already on her way to Camelot, surprisingly._

"She truly is beautiful."

 _Gets most of it from her mother._ Aldwyn craned his head to look at Arthur. _I miss them, Arthur._

"I do, too."

 _No one will be able to replace those knights. Gaius will always be my mentor and father in everything but blood. Beatrice will always be my most loved. But Arthur… there are gonna be men and women out there that remind you of everything we've lost. You're gonna create the next generation of knights, you'll build the next Round Table, and you will look at them and yearn for Gwaine and Elyan and Leon and Percival. Lancelot, too._

Arthur let out a breath, not quite making eye contact with the phoenix.

 _But Arthur,_ this was Merlin speaking, now. _They wouldn't want you to hurt yourself over this. Gaius will want us to move on and find a new Court Physician. Gwaine will want us to find a new drunk knight. Percival will want us to find a methodical, judging, silent knight that laughs at the strangest things. Elyan will want us to care for his sister, to be wise with our choices. Leon will want another knight for you to be able to rely on when you can't make all the hard decisions. Lancelot will want you to have a man by your side that you'll be able to trust with all your secrets._

Arthur laughed, tears streaming steadily now. "Oh, Merlin…."

 _Oh, and Arthur?_

"Yes?"

 _You've just survived Death and all his friends._

 **Aldwyn: old, wise friend.**

 **Aquila: powerful as an eagle**

 **"Merlin Ambrosius" & "Aurora Ambrosius": "Merlin Emrys" & "Aurora Emrys" (** **WELSH)**

* * *

 **Well, there you have it! Sorry about not working on other stories, but this idea (not all of it—I developed a lot of it later on) kinda just popped into my head.**

 **CLARIFICATIONS :**

 **(a) Keep in mind I have no clue how many "Camelot years" passed during the five seasons of** _ **Merlin**_ **, but this takes place in a sorta-not-really AU where Arthur doesn't kick the bucket and they live on prosperously for 10 years before… well, everyone perished.**

 **(b) When you first meet Aurora, she is** **ten-years-old** **. She looks six b/c of the spell Merlin put on her, but AFTER she REMOVES the spell, she looks about nineteen. She is also a more powerful duplicate of Merlin (keep this in mind and don't criticize me about how "Merlin is the most powerful sorcerer that ever lived and there's no way that Aurora can be more powerful than him!"). And lemme tell you:**

 **1\. She is his fucking daughter.**

 **2\. I don't own** _ **Merlin**_ **, so I don't abide by their rules.**

 **3 I have never,** _ **ever**_ **looked up and read and researched Arthurian legends, so I therefore do not abide by** _ **their**_ **rules.**

 **4\. This is my story. I do what I want.**

 **(c) Also, Merlin and Beatrice "got it on" _later on_ in the first year of their relationship… so yeah. **

**Oh, and Aurora is thirteen when Merlin gets his transformation on. Ah, about that!**

 **MORE _DETAILED_** **CLARIFICATIONS** **:**

 _ **The Blue Bird**_

 **Okay, so basically, I'd just read a fanfiction called** _ **The Most Deadly Alliance**_ **, a Harry Potter and Merlin mash-up. So, basically, Fawkes (Dumbledore's phoenix) is involved, and I look up pictures of that lovely creature (because I haven't read the books and I am curious), and I manage to harden my already digested knowledge that phoenixes are ethereal and beautiful and amazing. Then, it think:**

 _ **"Why the fuck**_ **not** _ **make Merlin a damn blue phoenix?"**_

 **Really, I have plans of making stories around this one-shot, and I needed a wise, funny creature that makes Arthur look both awesome, powerful, and stupid at times. So, again:**

 _ **"Why the fuck didn't I think of this earlier?"  
**_

 **So Merlin is Aldwyn, one not to be messed with and underestimated. He will continue to intimidate foes, stupefy smartasses, and serve as a protector and friend to the whole of Camelot.**

 _ **The Hidden Children**_

 **This is one of my crazy, fleeting ideas that seemed pretty logical and amazing at first, but then became more and more stupid as the story digressed and I thought about _Merlin_. I want to clear this up though:**

 **THEY ARE NOT AS POWERFUL AS MERLIN.**

 **Yes, they are Warlocks and I don't know why the Hidden Children are a thing, but my thought process was that there were so many hidden and fearful boys and girls throughout Camelot that were born with something they couldn't control. So, basically, they came out and became yet another secret force for Camelot.**

 _ **Merlin's Militia**_

 **Merlin is the Court Sorcerer and all, but he needed to train people. There were also grown-ups out there that were born with magic (see _The Hidden Children_ ), and while Beatrice and a few others were the few that did live and survive in Camelot their whole lives, many are from outside kingdoms. I probably said otherwise in the actual story, but bear with me. I don't feel like changing it.**

 _ **The Silver Blade**_

 **That part in the story that Percival dies, Merlin sees the enemy's blade glisten a certain way. I was basically saying that they got a hold of a dragon and enchanted every blade. Yes, a bit unrealistic, and I don't know who this dragon is, but hey, my story, my logic, my rules.**

 **Oh, and I have also never really understood the whole "forged in a dragon's breath" thing, I assumed that magic couldn't save anyone if they were mortally wounded by such a weapon. I get this explanation from Mordred and Arthur's duel. And, you know, Arthur dying.**

 **(Damn you, _Merlin_ producers!)**

 _ **Two-in-One**_

 **I have no explanation for this. I just... thought that, well, Merlin's sorta elemental, so the death of earthly animals and plants and whatnot must hurt him a little. And when I say a little, I mean exactly that. It's nothing major, and Merlin fell from his horse from the shock of it all, and the slight pain he felt. He wasn't gonna die, sillies, calm yourselves.**

" _ **Death and all his friends"?**_

 **Dude, I don't even know. I was listening to Coldplay, and their album** _ **Viva la Vida or Death and all his Friends**_ **seemed like a badass name. And, you know, there's Death, Grief, Guilt, Temptation, Blame… I could go on. Arthur has survived those and many more in the most difficult circumstances, and I say he should be recognized for it.**

 **"Long live the King!"**

 **~Mini~ (more questions? Ask! Can't say I'll be able to answer them all, but I'll try!)**


	2. Chapter 2: A Kingdom from the Ashes

Episode One: A Kingdom from the Ashes

 _ **July;**_

 _ **Arthur**_

My chambers are larger than before.

When construction on the castle had come to a close, we'd been shown to our room, Gwen and I. Aldwyn had followed, flying high above us in the wide, towering halls designed specifically for him. The people of Ealdor are surprisingly handy people (and by handy I mean _amazing_ —they built the whole town, our castle, and fortified our walls), and every house they built was pristine and warm. The three of us were not disappointed.

First off, Aldwyn gets half of it, which is about the size of my old arrangements. It has many high ledges (these go on throughout the room) and one wall is a complete window. Merlin always did like the view of the city.

Gwen had screeched with delight when she saw the bed. It was a soft grey color with red swirls. The drapery was a thin, see-through red with a darker, opaque setting (for… well, you know). We had a balcony that sits high above the townsfolk, a dressing screen, a desk, and marvelous oak floors.

Gwen had raved on and on about how beautiful it was, she thanked and thanked the builders and promised them great rewards ("No, no, Milady, your happiness is reward enough!"), and had finally, with a huff, collapsed on the bed.

I looked at her, smiling, as we talked.

"Arthur, I can't believe that we came back from the Battle of the Fallen."

I nodded, sighing. "I can't believe it either. It truly is amazing, the years we've been here. And our people…."

"Hunith will get a room in the castle, right?" Gwen looked at me, a sternness in her eyes that shook most people.

I shrugged. "I'll ask, but don't be surprised if she declines. The people of Ealdor are extremely close people," I glanced at Aldwyn, who'd been staring me down, "for the most part. There are traditions they have that are new to us, and I don't want to take that away from them."

 _Why don't you adopt them?_

I looked at him. "The people?"

 _The traditions, idiot. Like the Fire of the Lost. We would hold this event each December to honor the lost warriors of our village._ Aldwyn sighed in my head. _We could move that to the twenty-third instead of the twelfth and honor both it and the Battle of the Fallen._

Gwen gave me a look. "What'd he say?"

"He thinks that we should adopt some of their traditions, except kind of merge them with ours. They hold an event each December twelfth to honor the warriors of their village. We could move it to the twenty-third and honor the Battle and their warriors."

"The seventeenth," Gwen nodded, standing and moving to my desk. "It's about halfway between both dates. I think it's a wonderful idea."

As it turns out, Hunith had been about to come to me about the very subject. I chuckled and we talked about the different traditions they held, the different festivities.

Aldwyn and I walked down (well, he flied) the enormous hallway, taking in the structure of the new castle. He landed on my shoulder (he may be huge, but he's as light as a feather), small feathers on his head—they looked like ears, if I'm honest—twitching up and about. He was silent in my head.

Grey stone flattened by years of hard work ran under my hands. Every ten steps there was a table with a bouquet of flowers atop it, leaving the air smelling like lavender and roses. Torches provided a warm glow, highlighting the sunset outside. Dark oak ran under my feet, silent. Small but sturdy branches were attached near the ceiling for Aldwyn.

We opened the door at the end of the corridor.

Within was much of the same aspects of the hallway, with the stone and wood and flowers, but this room was large, vast—and there was a large wooden table right smack in the center.

I tensed as I walked into the empty room. My breaths echoed around the walls. Oldy flew up and landed on the rails on the overhang, peering sadly throughout the room. He looked to one of the chairs and said:

 _Gwaine sat there._

My heart panged. I looked a few over. "Leon was always to my right."

Aldwyn chuckled. _Percival was your left._

"Elyan sat over there."

 _Lancelot… he was a little to the left of Leon._

I laughed, happy tears in my eyes.

 _Mord—_

My smile disappeared. "Merlin."

 _Despite what you may believe, I loved him. I wanted him as a friend, but there were too many problems that kept us apart. You, me, the Dragon, oh—and how he was destined to kill you._ He let out a huff. _I've always known that destiny isn't ever set in stone. Yes, maybe ours, but Mordred didn't kill you. And I always wanted him to change, for all this to be wrong._

I bit my lip. "He wasn't a knight of the Round Table, Merlin."

 _Yes, but I'd like to believe he could have been._

He spread his wings and took off.

"Arthur,"

I groaned, placing my papers down. "Yes, Gwen?"

She looked hesitant. "Well… we need Knights."

I shook my parchment. "Yes, well, I'm sorta working on that. Aldwyn's overviewing the people to see who can do what. Aurora's with him, testing them."

"Yeah, well, defense and offense is good, I guess…."

She still looked uncertain. "What _is_ it, Guinevere?"

She finally laid her beautiful brown orbs on me. "We need a physician, Arthur."

It hit me then that she was right. I'd been avoiding the subject—Aldwyn gets kind of sensitive whenever Gaius is brought up. He falls silent and takes off into the woods, not coming back until morning. Either that, or he freezes up, never moving a muscle. And it makes me sad to see the depression in his small eyes when he remembers his mentor.

I placed my head in my hands. "I know, Gwen, I really do. But… Merlin… he can't—"

"Well, he needs to move on." She gave me a stern look, but also looked exasperated. "I know it was hard for him, but he has no idea what he put _us_ through! I understand that Gaius was like a father to him, I really do, and that he was probably the only father he'd ever known, but he needs to get over it. Our people are as susceptible to sickness as anybody, and we need someone with proper medical knowledge to help them in times of need. He needs to—"

She froze midsentence, eyes wide. I tilted my head. "Gwen—"

Aldwyn was perched above her, head tilted just as mine was. I tuned in, even though he obviously wanted his conversation with her to remain private.

 _-Gaius was more than a father to me, Gwen. He was a friend, a mentor. He may not have understood me completely, but he understood me enough. He was one of the only people in my life to help me with everything. I understand that I need to let him go, that I need to stop longing and grieving for him. I understand that we need a new physician._

 _Do understand that I had a real father._ I sucked in a breath, meeting Gwen's eyes. _I saw him for one day before he died. He didn't know me half that day, but when he did, he made me a dragon. He carved it from wood and gave it to me. Then he took a blow for me._

I looked to the blue bird. "B-Balinor? He was…."

 _Yes._ Aldwyn ruffled his feathers and flew to his bed. _Tomorrow morning, Gwen will stay here with Aurora and test each of the people on their knowledge of potions and whatnot. Arthur and I will ride out to outlying villages and do the same._

Gwen looked miserable. "Merlin, I'm so sorry—"

 _Don't be, Gwen. Seriously. I understand, and I'm sorry any of this had to come up. Just go to bed._

And with that, he shut off for the night. Granted, he's very alert at night, and it's a wonder how he gets any sleep, but I think he slept a good night.

Gwen and I didn't protest.

Sometimes, even the Queen and King have to take orders. 

Aurora wasn't happy in the least.

I had tried my best to explain, saying that it was a small trip and that there was no need to go. She'd countered with the question _why_ , and since I had no better answer, I told her it was because of her gender.

The courtyard had stiffened then, quieted down so much that you could hear the embers from the blacksmith. I had grimaced then, realizing the mistake I'd made.

Now, Aldwyn was perched on my shoulder, giving me the silent treatment.

"Look, Merlin, I'm sorry." I sighed. "I really am."

His head twitched.

"I don't know what else to say. I didn't mean to offend Aurora—she's like a daughter to me. You know that! It was just… a slip of the tongue. Old habits and beliefs."

He ruffled his wings, lowering his body. I failed to notice.

"Merlin, please, would you just—"

He screeched then, and for the first time I heard the arrow. It was making a beeline for my chest. Aldwyn swooped around my bags and spread his body out in front of mine. The arrow impaled him.

My breath caught in my throat. I gave him wide eyes, not knowing what to do. Just knowing that _no, no, no, no, no_ —

It shimmered from existence and he dived toward the archer.

I finally came to my senses and pulled my sword out. Excalibur gleamed inhumanly in the sunlight that was streaming through the trees, but that was normal. After all, it was forged in a dragon's breath.

There were ten of them. We'd stumbled into their camp (how we did so remains a mystery), and to say they were prepared would be an understatement. They were _ready_.

Aldwyn weaved through the bandits, taking them out in swift, quiet movements. I recounted them. Twenty.

Twenty-five.

It was almost, probably, nearly too much. I noticed, out of the corner of my eye, a cage. Inside were two people in ragged clothing, one an older, greying woman, and another a small child.

The small girl had brilliant golden, chestnut hair and unearthly green eyes. Her stomach appeared to have been stabbed, and had been wrapped together with makeshift bandaging. I looked to the greying woman to see part of her dress missing. Mother and daughter, then.

Fifteen men came at us then, all wielding swords and axes.

 _A few of them have magic, Arthur. Tread lightly. Call if you need anything._

And with that, we reengaged.

Every arrow that came at the phoenix disintegrated. Swords passed through him, as did axes. It was quite amazing, really, but it also made me wonder: what _could_ kill him?

A scruffy man with a beard managed to place a nice, long gash on my leg. But I hardly noticed this as I made my way to the cage.

The older woman looked at me suspiciously. "And who might you be? Never seen nobody with a fancier bird than that of yours."

Aldwyn broke the lock. He looked inside the cage, bending his body and tilting his head. _Arthur, their chains are magical._

I started. "How were you captured?"

The woman bit her lip, drawing the girl closer to her. "We were gathering herbs, hunting a little, too. They came out of nowhere and saw us using magic. _'Sorcery!'_ one of them had shouted, and without warning, he impaled my granddaughter. Outta nowhere." She suddenly looked at me, eyes wide, and they were the same entrancing green as the girl's. "They-they put these chains on us, and I can't… I can't heal her and…."

Aldwyn snuggled his way into the cage and… _spit_ on their manacles. They began to disintegrate, erode, and soon the two women were out of the cage. One was laying on the ground, while the other had her eyes gold.

I shuffled my feet, feeling slightly impressed and, yes, intimidated. She obviously wasn't scared of me, and I doubt she would be if she knew who I was. And despite these facts, I felt humbled in her presence.

"What, ah, be your name?"

She glanced sideways at me, an eyebrow raised. I felt a pang in my chest at her expression. "Althena." She paused, biting the corner of her mouth. "And this is Avilon."

Aldwyn stiffened. I licked my lips. Althena scrutinized me.

"What are ya gonna do with us?"

 _We're going to test you,_ Aldwyn started, and the woman looked to him with wide eyes. _Yes, I'm talking, perks of being sorta-not-really-dead. Anyway, you seem like the type of person that likes to help people. You seem wise, trustworthy, and judging. But we need you to apply them to a real world situation._

Althena paled. "Like… like an actual human being…."

 _That is not for me to tell. You will be projected somewhere, be it past, present, or future. You must realize that, to be a physician, you must know when to keep going, and when to stop. Help will not always be on the way, Althena. You were lucky this time._ He spread his wings. _But sometimes luck is not on our side. Sometimes, fate has already decided what it's going to do with us._

He took off. 

Althena is an interesting woman.

She reminded me an awful lot of Merlin, with his witty retorts, thoughtfulness, and rebelliousness. She never bowed once, never referred to me as "Sire", and hadn't even given me a second glance when she'd conjured up a horse.

She clasped Avilon close to her chest.

"May I ask you something?"

I nodded. "Yes."

"Why do you need a Court Physician?"

My throat closed up. I furrowed my brows. "Our… Gaius… he died a few years back."

She looked horrified. "You've been without a Physician that long?"

"What? No!" I reassured her. "Aldwyn—the phoenix—he has basic, and sometimes major, healing capabilities. It just… it tires him out. He can't go around for every person that gets a cold."

She huffed. "He can disintegrate arrows, pass through swords like a ghost, but healing a cold hurts him."

"We all have our weaknesses, Althena."

Her eyes softened. "Is it an emotional bond the bird shares whenever he heals somebody?"

I shrugged. "I honestly have no clue. He's never been the type to open up. He… we've been through some rough times."

She rose a brow (my chest panged). "Do you have family?"

I chuckled. "Well, my wife, Guinevere, and Aurora, but Aurora isn't actually our daughter—"

"Then what'd you do, find her in the woods?"

I laughed out loud at that one. "Yes, actually." My smile faded. "She's sorta… Aldwyn's her father, technically." We were at the gates.

Althena looked at me, bewildered. "What the hell, Arthur?" 

_**Aurora**_

My father and I were having a heated argument. In our minds.

 _Dad, you heard what he said!_

 _Yes, Aurora, I did. Just because I'm not human doesn't mean I can't hear._

 _I need to prove myself to him._

The phoenix straightened. _No, Aurora Aquila, you don't. I know Arthur. Trust me, I do—he's trying his best. This kingdom used to be ruled by a far crueler king, and that was Arthur's father. That man was a large influence on his life, and getting rid of beliefs and ways of life are difficult. Beyond difficult. I mean, getting him to accept magic was a hassle enough._

 _Dad, he's never going to learn if he has nothing to learn from!_

 _Aurora, he's had PLENTY to learn from!_

I silenced then, because I knew it was true. Sure, I still felt the need to show him a piece of my mind, but the more rational part of me was scolding for even thinking so.

 _Sorry._

 _What?_ I gave him a confused glance.

 _For yelling._

I waved it off, seeing as I had deserved it. _It's fine. But… I'm not gonna promise anything._

When he ruffled his feathers, I imagined his sparkling teeth biting his lip, all those years back when I had set a tree on fire from my anger. It was stupid, but I was six, and I didn't think so. He was pretty disappointed.

 _Two women are coming._

"What?" I cringed at the loudness my voice brought to the room. _What?_

 _And older woman, Althena, and a small girl, Avilon._

 _There's something more to this, isn't there?_

 _She…_ he ruffled again. _She's quite impressive. Decent at healing magic, what with what happened to her granddaughter._

 _Granddaughter?_

 _Avilon. Stabbed by one of the men, apparently. Althena couldn't heal her completely, though, with the chains and aftereffects. I'll finish her when they get here, then Althena's gonna—_

"Aurora?" Guinevere, practically my mother, burst through the door. She looked worried, exasperated. "Oh, Merlin—Arthur wants you straight away."

He flew from the room. 

The Queen and I walked quickly down the hallway, talking frantically. Or, well, she was, at least.

"Althena Grace and Avilon Valor, fifty-five and twelve. Arthur and Merlin found them while fighting bandits. Althena has magic, healing magic, and we're unsure of Avilon, who is hurt badly. I think Merlin's gonna take care of her, though, but—"

"But what?" I gave her a scrutinizing glance.

"I think Merlin's gonna address the Court about her." Her voice was tight in anticipation.

"Merlin… woah." I swallowed. "He's never done that before. I think, at the most, he's done, what, four minds? There'll be at least thirty there!"

"Fifty, with the commoners there to witness. Actually, no, I think we're set for forty-five."

"But… won't everyone realized it's Merlin talking?"

"No." she chuckled. "He's talked about it before. Apparently, only the people he trusts can hear his voice. Everyone else in the room will hear some big, booming, dramatic voice that 'shakes fear into enemies'."

"This is for his own personal amusement, isn't it?"

"Well, the voice part. For sure."

I sucked in a breath. "What if he doesn't have the energy for it? What if he decides to…?"

Gwen shook her head. "He wouldn't do that. That alone is extremely draining, and he hasn't ever _actually_ done it. What he's gonna put Althena through will take a lot of concentration."

"And what exactly is that?"

We were at the door. Gwen paused, looking at me thoughtfully. "You'll… you'll get the premise. Trust me." 

_**Althena**_

Aldwyn met us halfway to the court room, looking frantic (for a bird). I rose a brow, feeling wrinkles forming on my face. "Are you quite alright"

He looked at Avilon, who was cradled in my arms. _I trust Gwen as spoken with you?_

"Oh, yes."

 _Okay, well, may I see Avilon for a moment?_

I held her even tighter. "I don't know…."

"Trust him." Arthur whispered beside me, and again, I was astonished at his kindness. He's not his father's son.

I placed her gently on the floor and watched as Aldwyn healed her. Let us just say, it involved lots of colors and a bit of wind. But, by the end of it, she was awake and—

"Oh, my God!" she rose her brow, propping herself on her elbows. "You're absolutely huge!"

Arthur chuckled, while Merlin dipped his head slightly.

 _Thanks, Avilon. You know, for the complement._

She looked horrified. "Oh, my, you can hear me!"

 _Well, yes. I'm not deaf._

"Well, you're very beau—handsome… uh…."

 _Aldwyn._

"Aldwyn." She smiled, turning to look at Arthur and I. "Grandmamma!" she stood, hugging me. "I told you we'd get out of there!"

I chuckled, rubbing her head. "Well, we wouldn't have if it weren't for Arthur and his bird."

 _Phoenix!_

"Aldwyn, I'm pretty damn sure you aren't a phoenix."

Avilon gave a tentative step forward. Her golden-brown hair fell down her shoulders, and I could see Arthur stiffen at her green eyes. "Are you King Arthur?"

He jumped. He was already rubbing her neck. "Oh, um, yeah, that's me."

She gave him a look. "I'm not bowing to you."

I gasped. "Avilon!"

He tilted his head. "I didn't exactly expect you to."

"I'm not going to do anything for you until I have proof that you deserve it."

I furrowed my brows, opened my mouth, but Arthur raised his hand.

"I like your spirit, Avilon Valor. Reminds me of a certain someone." He gave a pointed look at Aldwyn. "And I have trust that you will make the right decision, whether it be in helping this kingdom or not."

She nodded in acceptance.

 _Now, we really should get going. I want to start and finish this as quickly as possible._

Arthur gave him a warning look. "No. You cannot."

 _But I am._

"You can't show them that! It's… we haven't even shown our people that!"

 _It is a test, Arthur, do realize this. To understand us, she must understand our secrets. To be a successful physician, she must understand the job._

"How would this help her 'understand' the job?"

 _You know how, Arthur._

He bit his lip, looking angry and reluctant. "Who will you be showing?"

 _Althena, Avilon, and Aurora._

"Aurora, too?"

 _She deserves to know. I bet her and Avilon will be great friends._

"Ah," Avilon looked to Aldwyn. "Who exactly is this 'Aurora'?"

 _My daughter._

"She's a bird, then?"

 _Good heavens, no._ We were at the doors. _It's… complicated. You'll realize soon enough._

Arthur nodded and pushed the doors open. The room quieted faster than a blink of an eye, and I could feel the stares digging into our backs. Surprisingly, though, Aldwyn seemed to be getting the most attention.

The Queen sat on her throne, looking quite anxious. And, unlike most queens I've seen, she's actually human.

To her left, across from Arthur's obvious throne, was a lithe, strong, muscled woman with dark red hair and bright, yet stormy green eyes. Her dress was made of silk and dark blue, her arms thin and long. She had a kind, angled face that made me want to smile.

 _That's Aurora. She's eighteen. You'll get to know her later._

I glanced at Aldwyn. Avilon and I stopped, standing in the aisle, while Arthur sat. Aldwyn flew above him, landing on a ledge.

 _Hello, all._

There were gasps around the room. I saw an elderly woman faint.

Aldwyn twisted his head at her in worry. _Oh, dear, someone do help her, please?_

A young man lifted her and placed her in a seat, nodding to the large creature, who nodded in return.

 _Thank you._ He ruffled. _The two women in front of you are known as Althena Grace and Avilon Valor. Arthur and I rescued them from bandits about an hour ago._

 _Althena is a magic healer._ I blushed. _She may not be perfect, but we do need a physician. While I will not force this on her, I want her to go through something only a few of us in this room has seen._

 _She, Avilon, and Aurora will be projected into a situation. It may be from the past, present, or future. If from the past or present, it will be altered into a setting that fits them three into the situation. If from the future, well, that's pretty self-explanatory._

We all laughed, relieving some of the tension, but it was quickly replaced by more.

 _I do not want you all to criticize their choices. I would rather have them accept it full-heartedly than lie to us. We need a reliable physician, not a forced fraud._

Aldwyn turned to Avilon.

 _Avilon?_

"Yes?" her voice was strong.

 _Do you use magic?_

"… yes." Now it wavered.

 _Do you use it for good?  
_ "Yes."

 _Were you born or taught?_

"Born."

 _Very well._

There was silence for a moment.

 _Your choices are yours. Consider the situation carefully, all of you, and good luck._ He swept down onto the wooden floor and spread his wings. I hadn't even seen Aurora get up from her throne, but she stood next to us now.

We all looked at each other, and Aurora turned to her father. "We're ready, Aldwyn."

He seemed to shake, just for a moment, but he stiffened.

And all was white. 

_**Aurora**_

I opened my eyes to find a sword in my hand. A sword, may I add, that was embedded in a man's chest. I yanked it out, just in time to see another coming from behind. I killed him, too, and couldn't help but notice how they were dressed.

"Aurora!"

I blinked, looked to the man who'd called my name. His hair was long and dark, curled slightly at their tips, and he had a frantic look on his face. "Behind ya!"

I blinked again and, swiftly, twisted my body to stab the man in the gut. I shouted afterwards a name I hardly knew. "Thanks, Gwaine!"

"Anytime!"

I took a breath and went back to swinging. I glanced around every once-and-a-while, seeing a dark-skinned man, a long, dirty-blonde that I recognized as Sir Leon, and a tall, muscled, bald man with a wide swing and deadly accuracy. But they were all kind, I could tell, and it was comfortable fighting with them. Even if I had no idea who we were fighting.

I was breathing hard, and it felt as if it'd been an hour, when I finally saw the two of them. Arthur I recognized immediately, seeing as I'd seen him for a good eight years now. But where I was then, it was as if he were years younger (which, I suppose, he _was_ ), with pure blond hair and wrinkleless skin. He had a grimace on his face, and his side was bleeding. But he fought strong and sure.

It took me a minute to place the second man.

He was quite a bit taller than Arthur, by what looked to be three inches, and he wore no armor. His black jacket, red neckerchief, dark pants, and common boots alarmed me in the situation we were in. His black hair hung over his forehead, and he looked at least thirty, but his cheeks were sharp and exact, his skin unblemished, and his eyes—

His eyes were glowing gold.

I realized then that, obviously, this was my father, in all his glory, and that this battle was extremely important, for he would not show me this if it weren't. But, for the life of me, I could not remember what battle this was!

"Where the hell did they come from?" Gwaine shouted, killing another man. "I mean, seriously, no one can just _kill_ the Watchers—Merlin trained them!"

I had no clue what he was talking about. Watchers? Who did Merlin train?

"You know," the dark man groaned, ducking, "I've never heard someone complain so much—especially to a group as clueless as he."

"Oh, would you both just _shut up_?" Merlin yelled, eyes flashing gold. I bit my lip, a smile forming. The tall man laughed, surprising me at his lightness.

I saw as a man slashed at Merlin, slashed into his back. Percival lowered his sword, slightly, and both Merlin and I saw the man behind him.

" _Percival_!"

Our eyes flashed, I felt it, but it was too late.

My dad was kneeled upon the ground in the blink of an eye, but he tensed at the sight of the wound. We all bowed our heads, as it seemed respectful to do so.

He cried out, shaking the ground. I nearly lost my footing, surprised at the strength in his cry. Arthur and I met gazes, and he bit his lip, looking down at Merlin with sadness. No pity.

His hand was out. "Merlin…."

"Shut up. Just—shut up. Not right now. Later." I cringed at his wording. "You all… I can't heal your wounds. They were forged in a dragon's breath. So please… be careful." He breathed.

Gwaine spoke up. "But you're in the same predicament as us, right?"

"Yes."

Arthur's head snapped up. "But, Merlin… you… we…."

"I said I'd be your servant till the day I die. Don't you dare think I'll ever take that back."

"But you could die."

Merlin looked at me, fleetingly, and his eyes were the glowing, flaming blue that I was so used to. "We all could, Arthur. We all might." 

_**Avilon**_

I gasped, looking up. I was laid out on a bed, screams lacing the air outside. My side was sore, and my arm was wrapped in bandaging. It hurt, badly, until I took a look around the room.

Children, younger and older than myself, were laid out, either groaning, arguing with nurses, or… dying. A woman with brown hair and eyes walked in, along with a beautiful lady with dark skin and warm eyes, dressed in furs and brown, skin-tight leggings.

"Vera," the latter said, "go check up on Brenan." She walked over to me, looking worried and regretful. "Avilon, before you go back out, listen to me. You need to know what to be careful of."

I gave her a strange look. "Go back out where?"

She shook her head. "You did suffer a blow to head." She handed me a vial filled with purple liquid. "The Physician gave it to me—it'll provide you with strength."

I downed it without question.

"You were injured out on the field. A man, we don't know who they are, came at you. Alice… she saved you, but was killed in the process. Your arm has a nasty gash, and you were a bit delirious from the knock to the head that you suffered. But, and I'm truly sorry to say this, we need you back out there. I really am sorry, Avilon."

"Gwen, you're needed in the main!"

The woman, Gwen, nodded. "Alright, in a minute!" she looked at me, a delicate hand place on my good arm. "I wish I could help you all."

I shook my head, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. "You're helping plenty, Gwen. Trust me. I'll make it through, just for you. For both you and Arthur." I don't know where I got the second name from.

She chuckled. "You sound just like Merlin." And, with that, she left.

As I ran past the main room, I caught sight of Althena. She seemed busy, so I didn't bother interrupting her. We were all here for a reason, and I could clearly see her.

The first hour was exhilarating. Spells flew from my mouth, knocking down men left and right. Their white cloaks and hoods shone in the moonlight. They were blinding after a while, and by the time the hour was over, my eyes hurt every time they came at me.

The screams did not end, and most of the time, I couldn't tell which side they came from. I earned quite a nasty gash on my arm, my _broken_ arm, but I hardly felt it at all. That medicine really did work.

About three hours in (or at least, from what I could tell was three hours), there was a cry. It pierced the air, seemingly stopping all battle. I turned to my left, the direction it came from, and had to hold in my gasp.

Aurora stood there, shocked, bleeding, with her hand just barely grasping her sword and her mouth wide. I couldn't see her eyes, but I was smart enough to realize that she had just shattered.

There were six men around her. Four wore Camelot's chainmail, red capes fluttering in the wind. Three lay on the ground. Two were either dead or almost so. One wrenched his sword from the fallen enemy (the man was the source of the cry), while a blonde man—Arthur?—knelt next to the gasping man on the ground, rocking him back and forth.

I could see his black hair and green eyes from here, along with his red neckerchief and gaping wound, but I stood still as stone. No man attacked them or me, instead leaving us to stand there, shocked and worried. There was a feeling that reminded me a lot like doom in the air, and that worried me more than anything.

I could faintly hear the echo in the air. _Merlin…!_

Who was Merlin? I looked at the young man again, tilting my head. That had to be him—the cry still rang desperate, and he seemed pretty important.

The dark man clad in red stepped forward, the tremble in his voice unmistakable. "Arthur, we need to get him to Althena."

I held in my gasp. My heart shattered at Arthur's voice.

"But… he s-said…."

Said what?

"Well damn that!" the other man said. His sword was bloody, his hair sticking to his face. "We're going to try, so get your ass up, Princess, and get him to Althena."

Arthur nodded, and he locked eyes with me. It was just a glance, actually, but I could see a flaming blue within them. I shuttered. Merlin lay limp in his arms.

Aurora looked at me too, and I shivered. Her eyes were haunted, like she knew every one of these men. Like she knew their fates. I looked away.

The fight was not over. 

_**Althena**_

Being thrown into this was quite a surprise, really. I knew they'd be testing me, and that it wouldn't be easy, but I didn't expect _this_.

I realized quickly that, in this day and time, I was a known physician. I needed to get a hold of my surroundings, but, at the same time, I needed to work through this situation.

We were in a castle. If I counted correctly, there were four rooms on each wall, and I was working in the main, largest one. Fifty or so beds lay around the room, and surely, that wouldn't be enough, so I assumed two of the other rooms were for this same reason. I saw nurses running around with supplies, while others wheeled fallen men into another, darker room, and I guessed that that was for the dead.

Magic seemed legal, as spells rang in the air around the room, so I did my best to heal to wounded. The injuries stuck me as abnormal. My healing capabilities seemed to only hold off the inevitable, not prevent it. Many of the other women were coming to the same conclusion, looking exasperated.

I had to blinked a couple times when Guinevere came up to me, empty bucket clasped in hand. "Althena, none of the healers can fix the wounds. Do you know why?"

I bit my lip. "It's something with the weapons they're using. Magical—in what way, I don't know." I rose a brow at her worried expression, wracking my mind. It came all of a sudden. "Is Arthur out—still out there?"

She nodded, looking away. "Yes—yes, he is. S-so is Merlin." She gave me a sideways look. "I have a bad feeling, Althena."

I nodded farewell as she walked out, then went back to thinking.

Who was Merlin? Arthur was obvious. They were married, of course, so she must care about them greatly. But who was the Merlin fellow? He sounded important, really, and the way she stuttered at his name worried me.

Yes, he must be very valuable. Not only to this battle, but to the people fighting.

I thought on for a good four hours. I cringed slightly when I saw Gwen carrying both Avilon and a girl I later found out was Alice. The latter was brought into the dark room, while Avilon was in the unidentified room. Another child, a boy, seemingly no older than ten, ran out from the same room with a fireball in his hand.

So that was where they kept the injured children.

I finally figured out later that I was in the past. When Gwen came back in, I got a good look at her. Her skin was flawless, and she seemed a lot fitter, what with the running around she did and the children and men she hefted into the castle.

Then, I figured that this was Camelot. Many of our warriors wore red, and coupled with Gwen being here, it became quite obvious.

Then I realized that this battle was important—extremely so. Aldwyn and Arthur had seemed tense when they brought us three here, and the King had even argued that we shouldn't be allowed to see this.

 _While I will not force this on her, I want her to go through something only a few of us in this room has seen._

Aldwyn, Gwen, and….

"Althena!" the whole room quieted. You could hear the water dripping from the ceiling. I looked to the door, taking in Arthur and the man in his arms.

He placed him down on the bed, and I got to work. I could feel magic in this man, great, powerful, good magic that seemed to flow through his veins. It fought the wound, the gaping wound that obviously came from a sword, but it would not be enough, not even with my magic pushing it along.

Healing magic was obviously not his strong suit.

"Althena," I bit my lip. His hands were shaking, the bandages in them trembling, too. "Althena, you have to help him, there has to be a way to…."

I shook my head sadly, looking into the injured man's sad green eyes.

I felt as if I should know him, and with that knowledge also came to feeling of loss. We both knew the inevitable was coming, his laid in his eyes and mine in my posture, and I felt so lost all of a sudden. Memories that weren't mine, memories of a boy stumbling into a large, towering room. Memories of falling off a ladder, memories of a bed running under me.

Memories of his face, his innocent, young face panicking at the sight of my yelling—someone _else's_ yelling—when I questioned him about magic. His face when he told me he was born this way, that he was never taught, and that this was the _unknown_.

 _"What did you just do?"_

 _"Erm…."_ _  
_

 _"Tell me!"_

 _"I—I—I have no idea what happened."_

 _"If anyone had seen that…."_

 _"Er, no! That—that was—that was nothing to do with me. That—that was…."_

 _"I know what it was! I just want to know where you learned how to do it!"_

 _"Nowhere."_

 _"So how is it you know magic?"_

 _"I don't."_

 _"Where did you study? Answer me!"_

 _"I—I've never studied magic or—or been taught."_

 _"Are you lying to me, boy?"_

 _"What do you want me to say?"_

 _"The truth!"_

 _"I was born like this!"_

His eyes were wide and unyielding, yet scared and questioning.

 _"That's impossible! Who are you?"_

 _"Oh, erm, I have this letter…."_

 _"I don't have my reading glasses."_

 _"I'm Merlin."_

 _"Hunith's boy?"_

 _"Yes!"_

 _"But you're not meant to be here till Wednesday!"_

 _"It is Wednesday."_

 _"Ah, right, then. You better put your bag in there."_

 _"You—you won't say anything about, erm…."_

 _"No. Although, Merlin, I should say thank you."_

I blinked as the memory left me, only to realize Merlin and Arthur were talking.

Merlin's face was streaked with tears. He placed his hand upon his King's, shaking and gasping. Arthur looked at him then.

"Merlin… you… you're gonna… please, Merlin…."

I sucked in a breath, ready to intervene, but the raven had other thoughts.

"I'm scared, Arthur." His breathing was ragged. "I-I don't want to die. Not today. I want us to win, Arthur, but…."

"We will win, Merlin. This is your King you're talking to." But even he was unsure.

All of a sudden, Merlin lurched in his bed, eyes wide and panicking. "Arthur, I forgot all about her—I forgot, you have to follow—"

He coughed, frantic, and my heart panged. "Merlin, you need to calm down. Who are you talking—"

"No, no, no, no, no—Arthur, you won't win this battle. B-but you will sur-survive it. You have to follow… the…." Blood spewed from his mouth. He was chocking and there was nothing I could do.

Arthur was alarmed. "Follow what, Merlin? Merlin!" he looked into his fading eyes, both of us seeing his vulnerability. "…Merlin?"

"I'm scared, Arthur," I looked into his eyes, seeing a blue fire. "Where… where will I go?"

The merlin was made of blue light, and it brought some sort of new hope. An artificial hope, unreal, unbelievable. A passion.

It flew out. I looked at Arthur. As blue met hazel, I recognized despair and finality. Subdued sadness.

He left the room, slamming the door in the room of silence. 

_**Aurora**_

Arthur came out about an hour ago, silent and stubborn. He didn't talk about Merlin, and he didn't have to. We all saw the bird. I already knew where that bird was going.

I looked at Gwaine then, eyes widening. The pain that came was quick, and I left quickly. I heard Arthur's scream, then nothing.

Static. 

_**Avilon**_

My arms ached, and my magic was working against me. My energy was depleting and there were swords were flying everywhere.

Eventually, one of them caught me. I didn't know until my vision went black, where I seemed to float in a dark fog for a few seconds. Then—

Static. 

_**Althena**_

I felt utterly alone for the next few hours. Gwen, Vera and I worked on quietly. Gwen had brought Merlin's body back to the room. I had offered to do it myself, but she shook her head, breathing hard, tears collecting in her eyes.

She walked out of the room arms shaking.

Now I looked at her, eyes larger than saucers. She was helping a patient, focusing on the person, not the outside. But I could hear the rush of it, the ongoing, nearing, loudening of it. And she couldn't.

So I pushed her. I ran as fast as I could and shoved her, hard. She wasn't prepared, so she flew easily twenty feet, well out of the way. Finally she caught herself, and stared at me in horror.

Something hit me, and there was a flash of pain, then nothing.

Static. 

**_Arthur_**

I stared at Aldwyn, eyes narrowed and reprimanding.

"What are you showing them?"

In my mind, he took a deep breath that sounded slightly shaky and watery.

 _Just… just a little longer. One more. Not much longer. One more…._

 _ **All**_

They all gasped as they came to. In front of them was a screen split in two. Or, well, a wood slab with a black line down the middle.

"What is this?" Aurora whispered.

Althena and Avilon jumped, along with the Ambrosius, who all looked at each other. They seemed to remember their past situations and nodded.

"Warrior."

"Sorcerer."

"Physician."

The wood suddenly started flickering, drawing their attention away from each other. On one side, there was a commoner woman and a rugged man. The other, there was a King and a Queen.

"Push!"

The word was said on both halves, and they whipped their heads at the sound of another's voice. Both women scrunched their eyes in pain, screaming out. Both men held their hands.

"Push!"

The rugged man smiled, whispering sweetly.

"Push, push! You're almost there!"

Their smiles were whiter than snow. Behind their pained faces, kindness glowed and prevailed.

"Nearly there! There's the head!"

"There's the head!"

Aurora looked to the commoner, frowning. Then to the Queen, then to the man next to the Queen, who looked just as worried as her.

"He's nearly out!"

"He's out!"

The commoner's was free. The woman that'd been calling out on that side rushed forward, cutting the umbilical cord and taking the baby. It was an obvious boy, and his head held wisps of black hair. His lips were blue.

"He's out!"

On the other side, a beautiful blonde boy appeared. The cord was cut, and he was cleaned and wrapped. The Queen held her child, and looked to her King.

"Promise me you'll take care of him."

His eyes were wide. "Of… of course I will—"

"Thomas, get over here! He isn't breathing!"

The rugged man's eyes widened. He rushed over, surprisingly fast for an old man, and started with the compressions. The mother panicked.

"My baby! Why? What is it? Leah, why isn't it breathing?"

"It's a he, Hunith! And…."

"Promise me you'll love him, Uther." The group of three whipped their heads, one pair of green eyes widening.

"I… I promise, Igraine. What's wrong?"

"Thomas, you better get him breathing!"

The boy's lips were still blue, and he was still limp. Leah covered her mouth, eyes watering. "Thomas…."

"You better get my Merlin breathing!"

"Promise me you'll be a father to him, not a King."

The old man in the corner bowed his head, seeing her face. It was acceptance and knowledge and finality. Uther's eyes narrowed.

"I swear, Igraine. But why do you make me promise such things?"

Hunith hoisted herself on her elbows, twisting around with determined, scared eyes. Tears ran down her face.

"Dad, you have to get him breathing. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if you didn't."

Igraine handed Uther their boy, her perfect, strong boy.

"His name is Arthur, Uther. Give him the life he deserves."

Leah was crying. It'd been too long, too long for him to survive, for him to breathe—

 _There was a cry. Glasses flew from the shelves and shattered to the ground. Hunith gasped._

 _There was a breath. The women in the room bowed their heads, brows furrowed. Igraine ceased breathing._

Hunith cried joy with the boy placed in her arms. Tears spilled from Uther's eyes as he looked down upon his child.

"Merlin…."

"Arthur…." 

_**Arthur**_

I didn't know what to think when the three opened their eyes. It'd been only three minutes, and Aldwyn had been worrying me by the first. His head kept twitching, and I didn't know what to do when he started—muttering?—frantically.

They opened their eyes at the same time, and seemed to look to him like he was some sort of god. That they were, well, afraid of. Then there was understanding and sadness, then pity, which Aldwyn guffawed at, and then there was amazement, which I had no idea how to react to.

What the hell did they see?

"So," I began quietly, trying my best to break the silence. Anticipation filled everyone as Althena stepped forward, tattered dress fit around her and her grey hair trembling it its tie. She still did not bow, and I thought then that I would have to thank her, because I don't think I'd be able to handle it.

"I'm sorry to say this, your Majesties," she began, and my heart sank. Her face was dead serious, and she looked like she'd seen too much in too little time (oh, irony). "But I think I'm gonna have to accept your offer."

The room was quiet for a moment more, taking in her answer and processing their shock, then erupted into wild cheers. I myself was smiling like a madman, and Gwen had a small grin on her face, but the three women before us had grim looks that just wouldn't go away.

Aldwyn waited for the room to quiet down, then spoke. _You understand what it means to be a physician._

"Yes, I do."

 _You understand what your job entails._

"I do."

 _You understand, then, that some things are inevitable, unstoppable._

"Yes."

 _You accept this job knowing that it brings forth regret and sadness._

"I do." She was strong, and I smiled at that.

 _You will bring strength to this kingdom, Althena Grace. You will be a beacon of hope, and you will help the many that live here._

"I will be, Aldwyn."

I furrowed my brows. Where was he going with this?

 _You are replacing a great man, Althena. His name was Gaius. It will be hard for me to accept you, seeing as he was a father figure to me, but you seem to be a near duplicate of him._

We were all silent.

 _I name you Althena Grace, Court Physician of Camelot!_

The people left after about an hour. Hunith had remained, a small, knowing smile on her face. I stood up and stretched, clasping my hands as Gwen smoothed out her dress.

"So," I rose a brow. "Should I know what happened?"

Avilon shifted uncomfortably. "Where were we?"

Oldy bowed his head. _The Battle of the Fallen. Oh, and I guess I'm taking questions._

Aurora raised her hand. "Who were the men I fought with? Who was I?"

 _You fought with Sirs Elyan, Leon, Gwaine—_ he chuckled then _—and Percival. He wasn't really there, but you were Sir Lancelot. He died about thirteen years ago._

"So I didn't really save… Gwaine?"

 _No, you didn't. That was, if my information is correct, when he died._

I gave him a side glance. "It was."

"Who was I?" Avilon asked.

 _You were Bella, one of the Hidden Children. Alice really did save you, dying in the process._

Aurora said, "Who were the Watchers?"

Aldwyn stiffened then, just barely nodding to me. _You can tell them, Arthur._ I nodded.

"The Watchers were a group of magical people, sorcerers and warlocks alike. They were Camelot's hidden guard. Right before the battle, M-Merlin came to me. They all held a special connection, and he—"

 _I could hear them screaming._ We all shivered at his haunted voice. _So I went to Arthur to tell him the Watchers were dead—that your… mother… was dead._

Aurora nodded, eyes sad.

"Do you know who they were?"

I looked to Althena. "What?"

"Do you know who the enemy was? Where they came from?"

"No. We didn't know, and we still don't. There was no crest, no symbol—nothing."

She looked at Gwen then. Both locked eyes, Gwen's brown slightly alarmed and Althena's hazel curious. "Did he really save you?"

Gwen took a step back. Aldwyn and I looked to her. _Even I wasn't sure,_ he commented.

"I—y-yes, he did. He saved me. The fireball killed him and ten others."

Aldwyn stumbled. _Who—fireball?_

"The… the beast they brought." I stuttered, looking at him. "You said there was a larger force, that they were just tiring us out with their men. You were right." I paused.

"They brought a giant." Gwen whispered.

 _A… giant?_

"Never seen anything like it," I said, grimacing. "It wiped us all out. Only Gwen and I survived."

"Aldwyn," my wife rasped, tears running down her face, "they were aiming for you. They had to get rid of you before they could send that beast in. They knew you could have killed it."

The castle shuttered, sending them all sprawling. Aldwyn landed on his side, groaning in a very bird-like manner (he cawed). Aurora was up first, right before the bird, and helped everyone else. Gwen was shaking her head.

"They're back."

We were running after him.

Merlin had decidedly taken off, flying down hallways and corridors and breakneck speeds. So, really, we were following a trail of blue mist.

"Goddamn." I muttered, glaring at the blue.

"Do they have the giant?" Avilon yelled. The screaming outside was desperate, but not pain-filled. They hadn't struck yet.

"How the hell am I supposed to know?"

"Don't you have some sort of mental connection with Aldwyn?" Althena grumbled, surprisingly fast for an older woman.

"He's blocked me out."

"That makes three of us," Gwen said, "Aurora and I haven't been able to get a hold of him in a while. We've been trying. He's put up one of his mental blocks."

"Great," I growled. "Just—"

"You aren't welcome here!"

Aurora, Gwen and I halted at the voice. Althena did to, looking bewildered. I resumed running, finally getting to a balcony where I could see everything.

I wish I hadn't.

First off, there was a thick blue barrier around the whole kingdom. Town, castle, everything. Aldwyn was perched just outside of it, upon one of the gargoyles. He seemed ten times larger, and now that I think about it, he _was_ ten times larger. His wingspan… let's just not talk about that. It was ginormous.

So, he was going for the intimidation factor. I will say, it was working.

Real well.

Down below, were the Men. The wretched, white-clothed men with gleaming swords. My throat closed up as I saw more in the trees, in the valleys, _everywhere_. There was no giant to be seen.

"We don't know who you are," the voice rang in the air. Merlin's voice. It'd never sounded so full, so powerful, so demanding. But it was _his voice_ , not the fading sound in the back of his head. It was Merlin.

"But you may not come near this kingdom."

They shifted uncomfortably. I didn't know what they knew. Now would be the perfect time to attack. We had little to no defense, and Aldwyn could only do so much.

The front row dared to walk forward. Oldy screeched. "Leave now!"

There was no _while you still can!_ He knew better than to get cocky.

Still, they stepped forward.

Suddenly, there was a swoop. Upon the roof of our largest building landed Killgarrah and Aithusa. The latter was much bigger, and her grand white scales shimmered in the sunlight. She was as big, if not bigger, than Killgarrah, her long tail taking up most of her body. She was smooth, not ragged with spikes like her father-figure.

They growled. "Leave now, fools. Today is not your day."

Aithusa roared, seeing as she couldn't speak, sending them scattering. I grinned, looking at them.

"Thank you, Killgarrah, Aithusa. It's good to see you again."

Killgarrah chuckled. "Likewise, young Pendragon. How does your—"

 _Killgarrah!_

Aldwyn landed on his head, poking him with his beak. Aithusa laughed silently, watching as the older dragon tried to torch the bird. The most amusing part was that he didn't succeed.

"Ah, Mer—Aldwyn," he corrected himself, looking wistful for a moment. "Nice to see you haven't changed… much."

 _Hey, watch it._

The four women finally caught up. Avilon gasped. "Oh, my!"

Killgarrah looked startled. "What do we have here?"

Althena blinked. Blinked again. "Are those dragons?"

"Yep." Gwen nodded, panting. "It was a surprise to us, too." She waved. "Hey, Aithusa, Killgarrah."

They nodded in return, smiling.

 _That,_ Aldwyn spoke, _is Althena Grace and her granddaughter, Avilon Valor. Althena is our new Court Physician, as of, what, ten minutes ago?"_

"Eight, I think," Avilon corrected.

Killgarrah nodded. "She looks worthy. We welcome you, Althena Grace, but beware. There is much hardship ahead. 

_**All**_

They decided that the courtyard was the best place for a feast. The dragons could watch from above while the people rejoiced over their new Court Physician.

Five women preformed for the Queen and King. Throughout their family, they were known as Tiny Dancers. They created intricate and complex scores and seemed to have choreographed for their entire lives.

Little did Arthur and Gwen know, they'd choreographed a lot more than dances. And their family was not from Camelot. They had no friends within the kingdom.

Aldwyn flew to a tree, landing within its' branches. He looked out over the yard. His eyes caught on a bird some meters away, perched in a tree. A peregrine falcon.

Its white feathers of it ruffled in the breeze. Its eyes were a cold, dark black that shook Aldwyn to his very core.

 _Who are you?_

Aldwyn stumbled at the voice.

 _Who are you?_

He shook his head. No, he hadn't heard that.

 _Who are you…!_

Trick of his mind.

 _Who are you!_

That's all.

 _WHO ARE YOU?_

 **Ah, well. First "Episode".**

 **I want to add, too, that Arthur and Merlin were NOT born at the same time! I just needed it to be dramatic and meaningful, so I put their births side by side and WHABAM!**

 **I'm working on Episode Two, "Banisher". No telling when it'll be published, what with my procrastination and inconsistence. Horrible combination, really. I guess I'll get it done when I'm inspired, eh?**

 **My other stories are currently postponed until I find an inspiration within or outside myself to continue and finish them. Sorry for the inconvenience, and thank you for your patience!**

 **Love you all,**

 **Mini**


End file.
